Beyond the Show
by TARossum
Summary: One-shot: John finds out his wife was murdered and he is left alone with their three-year old son, Tommy. How will he deal with the situation? Will his friend Randy help him get over the most difficult moments? The story depicts 24 hours after John learns what happened.


**Wrestlers' real names are used (I haven't mentioned anyone's surname) but I suppose you will know who I'm writing about. I wrote this story back in summer when it was not known that Randy got divorced. Also John's wife is OC (not his ex-wife or Nikki Bella). **

**I hope you will like it and leave some comments. It's a one-shot but let me know if you'd like it to continue as I had some ideas on developing the murder and some John-Tommy interaction.**

* * *

„Fifteen minutes, John," the producer said to him. Then he walked away and let the two of them alone.

"Remember, this match is important enough to win but not important enough to get hurt. Try to avoid any dangerous situations," Paul advised him.

"I know what I need to do, Paul."

Vince sarcastically smiled and tapped John's shoulder. Then he added, "I hope you also know _how_ to do it." But this was not the first time John was doing some like this. And it almost always ended up perfectly for him. "Well," Paul started, "just go and win."

That was when he left. John stayed alone. He needed these few moments before the match for himself. He needed to concentrate so that he would be ready when he hears his name and his song starts playing.

John breathed heavily. He put on the headphones and listened to some calmative music. He tried to focus on his breathing. Take deep breaths, slowly breath out, he though. He did exactly what his coach told him. Since he started doing this, he always felt more ready. Nothing could upset him. He was ready for everything. "You can do this, John," he told himself, this time out loud.

Two minutes later he felt he was ready to do it. To beat that bastard up.

"Ready, John?" Alberto appeared out of nowhere but it didn't surprise John. He knew exactly what he could expect from his opponent.

"Ready to finish you," John responded. The tension was rising. Somebody had to calm this down a bit. Hatred is great in the ring and when there are cameras around but now that nobody's watching it's useless.

"Guys, five minutes to go. Are you both ready?" producer asked. They looked into each other's eyes and in a deep voice they said yes. "Alberto, you go first." He nodded.

"There he is. The more muscular one."

"Thanks." The two policemen walked towards John. It took him a while to realise something's wrong.

"Hey, you cannot be here," he warned them. "There's a match about to start," John told them.

"We're sorry but it is important. And I think you won't be able to fight tonight."

"Are you kidding me? You cannot just come here and prevent me from being in the ring. If I did something wrong then I believe it can wait until the end of the match," John told them angrily.

"OK. Give us two minutes so we can tell you what happened then you can choose if you want to wrestle or not. What do you say?" they gave him an offer.

"You've got exactly two minutes," John responded after few seconds of thinking.

John and the two policemen moved away from the others so that they would have some privacy.

"So?" John tried to hurry them up.

"Look, there's no easy way to say it. And we don't want to just burst it into your face. This is serious."

"One and a half minute," he reminded them.

"There's been a crime," they started.

"Have I broken the law?" he assumed.

"No. It's got nothing to do with you. I mean, you're not the criminal," the policeman corrected himself. "Well, at least we don't suppose so. You know, we don't have much information yet."

"What the fuck are trying to tell me? I don't care about the way you say it, just say it already." John still remembered that he had to go soon so he was trying to make this as short as possible.

"You wife is dead."

As soon as John heard that sentence he felt the world has just stopped. Suddenly he felt weak and about to collapse. His heart was beating fast. His legs were so weak. His hands were trembling. The tears were in his eyes. He hasn't cried for a long time but now he couldn't make it stop. He was so desperate.

"No! That's not possible!" he cried.

"We're sorry. Also, we know that you don't feel like talking right now but we would like to ask you some questions about your wife, her job and stuff like that so we can find out why they murdered her."

John looked up at them trying to put his thoughts together.

"She's been murdered?" he couldn't believe what he just heard.

"Yes. And it seems that it had something to do with her work."

"You're saying that they had planned it? They've done it on purpose?" he asked. They just nodded. "I cannot believe it. She was always trying to make me stop my job because she thought it was dangerous for me and she ends up dead because of her job. That's just not fair... Who did it? I'll kill that son of a bitch!" he shouted.

"You need to calm down. Maybe you should go with us."

"I'm not going anywhere," he protested. "Tell me who killed her!"

"As we have already told you, we don't have much information. We don't know who did it."

He felt as if he was on fire. He knew he was strong enough to kill everybody in this hall. He was so pumped up that if the murderer stood in front of him, he could tear his heart out of his body. And he would do it. But then he remembered something.

"Tommy!" he cried. "Does my son know?" he turned to the policemen.

"No, he's got no idea. Actually, we haven't told anybody. And, for what we know, you son is not here in New York.

"You're right, he's at home," John agreed.

"And... You should be the one to tell him."

"How can you tell a three-year old child that his mother's dead?" he cried.

"John!" somebody shouted at him to catch his attention. "It's time!"

He was walking back slowly, looking at the floor, trying to figure out what to do now.

"I cannot go out there," he said to them still in a shock.

"John, now it's not the right time to back off."

"Are you scared, John?" Alberto asked him provocatively. That pissed John off.

"I could kill you right now if I wanted to!" he shouted at him. He looked so aggressive that even Alberto got scared but he made sure nobody could see it.

"Why don't you want to fight? What happened? What did they tell you?" others were curious.

But he didn't want them to know. Not yet. "Look, I don't care if I have to pay a fine, just find somebody else to beat him tonight, okay?" he commanded.

The entrance song started to play and Alberto walked inside. In that moment, John was already opening the door to the common room where he would find somebody to switch the place with him. Two people were sitting on the couch, one standing in the kitchen drinking a soda.

"Can any of you replace me in tonight's match?" John asked them.

"You mean the match that started a minute ago?" somebody sarcastically posed John a question.

"Please," John begged.

"What the hell's going on?" Randy asked.

"I'll go," Stephen said not waiting for John to answer the question.

"Thanks a lot," John whispered when he was next to him.

Then he went outside and headed to his cloakroom. He wanted to be alone for a while but Randy followed him. Soon he was standing in front of John.

"Leave me alone," he tried to get angry but he was too weak for that.

"Something's going on. You've never done this before."

"So? Get out!" he shouted, what made him get on his knees. He was absolutely devastated. Unable to handle it anymore.

"I'm not your enemy and I'm not going to leave you alone in this state," Randy uttered while heading to John. He helped him get up on his feet and he made him sit down. Randy sat down next to him and watched him for a while.

Finally, John looked up at him and then back at the wall. He knew it would be better to tell him. He breathed heavily trying to find the right words.

"My wife..." he broke down, "she was murdered today."

"Oh my god," Randy exclaimed. He could imagine it as he was married too. Fortunately, his wife was at home, alive, taking care of their little girl. Also, since John and him were very good friends, he knew John's whole family. They often visited it each other. That's why it hit me hard, too. "I'm so sorry," he added.

John didn't say anything. He let Randy comfort him, though.

"John, if there's anything I can do for you, consider it done."

"Can you take my matches? Can you explain Tommy why he won't see his mom anymore? Can you tell me why somebody took away her life? Can you just kill me to make it easier?" he kept asking so that Randy would be aware of how stupid that sentence was.

"Calm down. You know I cannot do those things. Maybe I can take some of your matches but that is all. And don't think about death, you've still got your son who needs you. Now even more," Randy tried to do his best to prevent John from doing anything stupid.

"Anyway, I need to change and go home. Or to the police station. Maybe I can hide the truth from Tommy for some time and focus on trying to help the police to find the criminals," John was thinking out loud.

"I am not sure lying to your son would be the best solution."

"Then tell me, Randy, what should I do?" he was so desperate that he asked for advice. "What would you do in my place?"

Randy thought for a while. "I don't know. I guess I would go to the first bar and got wasted. Then I would try to find the courage to look at her and maybe if I saw her I would finally believe it's true. Afterwards, I'd tell my daughter and spend the rest of the day with her, and at night I would sit by her bedside watching the pictures of my wife and cry."

"I think I could try that," John said with sadness in his voice.

"If you want, I can have a few shots with you. I'm done for today and tomorrow I have a day off."

"No, that's not necessary. Go home and be with your family. You should spend with them as much time as you can. Because one day you'll realise it's too late." He wasn't usually the one to give advice but after what happened he didn't want others to make the same mistake as he did.

"Fine. But let me at least give you a ride to the hotel or wherever you're going."

"I can do it myself."

"I'm not going to take that risk."

John gave him an it's-going-to-be-okay look but it didn't work on Randy.

"I'm serious," he insisted. "I am not going to let you drive."

"I guess I could use a drive to the hotel."

Suddenly the door loudly opened and Paul started to shout at John.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You've just missed a match. And now, are you leaving, John?"

"Let him go," Randy got involved in the conversation.

"Give me one reason," he encouraged him.

"His wife just died," he said forgetting that John was next to him.

When John heard it again, it started echoing in his head. It was the only thing he could think about. His eyes were filled up with tears again. He felt he needed to get away. He just needed to get some fresh air. As soon as possible.

He ran out of the room not caring whether someone was calling after him, whether someone was running after him or anything. When he ran into some guy coming from upstairs who slowed John down, he attacked him. Without any evident reason. This was not the time that he needed a reason. It was enough that his beloved one was dead.

"Why the hell did you hit me?" the guy with the blood on his upper lip asked him. That was when John sobered up a bit but not enough to start acting rationally.

"Fuck off"! He just shouted and continued running away from the building which ruined his life. Maybe if he never came here, she would still be alive. Of course. It was Sunday anyway. Most people are at home with their families. If he was an accountant, this would have never happened.

He finally got out but he still didn't feel comfortable. He needed to do something. John picked up his phone from the pocket so he could call home. Actually, he remembered his son is not at home, he's with his grandmother, John's mom.

"No! Don't do this to me!" he cried when he looked at his phone and saw a missed call from his wife. "No!"

"John?" Randy appeared behind him. "Man, why are you here all alone?" It was a rhetorical question, he knew John wouldn't respond him. "You need to calm down. You assaulted a man for no reason. That could cost you your job."

"How can I calm down? My wife's dead and now I found out she called me before it happened. What if she knew? What if I could prevent it from happening but I just didn't return her call. How can I explain to my son that I caused his mother's death?" John kept sobbing.

"Shut up, John! I don't mean to be rude to you but you need to stop this bullshit. Come on, man up! You know it's not your fault," he reminded him but John just ignored him. "Okay. Maybe drinking wouldn't be the best idea. I think I know what can really help you."

"You do?" John looked up at him with hope in his eyes.

"Maybe it's not the best way of dealing with troubles but that's how we do it. And it works for us."

"You mean..." he started.

"Yeah, fighting. I think you should go down there and wrestle tonight," Randy said to him.

"But... I'm not sure if I'm strong enough now," John uttered.

"Somebody killed your wife today. You don't know what the reason was but you know she was a victim. That person, or people are out there somewhere. Unpunished, free. If they were in the ring would you just let them go?"

This motivational speech from Randy was working. John was getting the strength he needed, he had a good reason to fight. At that moment it didn't matter that the criminals are not the ones who he is going to beat up. Anyway, these people need to know how powerful he is. They will see it tonight. It was apparent that they already knew whose wife they killed. But they need to learn a lesson. Don't mess up with John.

"I'll do it," John agreed.

"If you want, I'll take it for the team. I mean I wouldn't mind to get beaten up by you."

"No, that's not necessary. There is a match taking place in the ring right now, the only thing it misses is me. Randy..." John turned to him, "thanks, man." John placed his hand on Randy's shoulder to show him respect.

"Anytime."

He let the right people from the backstage know he was going to fight so the song started to play and it all seemed like a regular match to him for a while. Hearing his theme was something what gave him confidence.

John didn't want to spend much time showing off or talking so he quickly ran towards his enemy in the ring. He could easily imagine he was the bad one who John needed to get. The murderer who had to disappear from this life. Unfortunately, killing his rival would get John into prison, and moreover, it wouldn't solve anything. He just had to focus on winning. No blood is necessary. Just normal pain caused by hitting, misplacing arms and legs, jumping on him or with him and other stuff wrestlers ought to do.

At some point John noticed the surprised and happy faces of the fans and he heard how they cheered for him and chanted his name. Of course, there were also those who hated him but he didn't care. They will hate him more when he finishes others tonight, after all.

When he started the execution, all the breaths were taken away. Nobody expected what followed. The audience had never seen John as angry as he was now. Maybe it was because this time everything was real. No scripts, no one telling him what to do. Just raw fight. And he was winning. One could tell people were afraid of him. He seemed furious. And he was, too.

On the other hand, it really felt good for him. This was really what he needed. To shut the brain down and let the muscles work for him. This time it was different. He didn't care whether it was bad what he was doing. The important was he had woken up his inner animal which didn't expect less than winning.

He knew he could hit Alberto over and over again and it would make him happy, unfortunately, others didn't think so. They wanted to stop him. Stephen did his best to get John away from Alberto but he failed. John acted as a wild animal, indeed. But they couldn't take him away from his victim. From his dinner.

Soon enough, Phillip gave up which meant only that John won by submission. Stephen didn't know what to do the whole match. Firstly, John asked him to fight instead of him. Then, in the middle of the match, John showed up and kicked Alberto's ass up. Stephen not knowing which side he should join, tried to stick outside the course of events. But when Alberto ended the match, Stephen knew by the look in John's eyes that it was his turn. What did he get into? He was aware of the fact that winning was impossible but as a superstar he couldn't just give up without fighting. He had to undergo his own suicide. And so he did.

A minute later, it was all over. One finishing move was all it took. And then, there was silence, followed by the noisiest applause ever. Some people noticed he acted differently, though, that he wrestled differently. But so what? He won. And then he disappeared.

In the backstage, there was Randy waiting for him.

"Dude, you beat the soul of out that guy up," he praised him.

"I still feel like that's not enough," John admitted and wiped the sweat away with the towel that Randy handled him a while ago.

"I understand," he just said but he didn't really know what else could he advise John.

"Where's my phone?" John asked confused.

Randy thought whether he saw it or not. "I think I saw it outside. Why?"

Without answering, John ran out again to get the phone which was waiting for him on the box with fire pump or something. John just knew that people used to go there to smoke.

"I need to call my mom," John briefly explained Randy while dialling the number.

Randy hesitated because on one hand he should've probably gone away to give John some privacy but on the other hand, he wasn't sure it would be the best idea to leave him alone, either. So he stood there quietly listening to the John's part of conversation.

"Mom..." John started but then went quiet. "Of course you know something's wrong." It seemed like he repeated the words his mother just said. "You always do. Look, I..." Another pause. "No, I'm okay. You know, it'll be better to tell you when I get home." His mom spoke again and didn't give John the opportunity to say something. "No, mom, I'm not crying," he lied. "I don't want to talk about it right now. Mom! Just listen to me for a while. I'll come home tomorrow... Yeah, I'll catch a plane in the morning... Hmm, no, she won't arrive with me..."

John nervously shuffled his feet. Randy decided to step aside and call his wife to tell her what happened and ask her if she wouldn't mind if he took care of John tonight.

"Yes, I'm still here, ma," John continued. He decided to ignore her questions. "Could you now give me Tommy? I need to hear his voice. See you tomorrow."

As John was about to talk to his son, he was getting even more nervous. What should he say? Won't he suspect something? John's mother did. But of course Tommy won't, he's only three.

"Tommy? Hey, it's daddy. How are you doing buddy?" his asked softly. "I miss you too. I'll pick you up tomorrow and we'll go home, okay? Now why don't you let your grandma read a bedtime story to you? I love you... And your mommy loves you too. Bye." He put the phone down and the feelings get the best of him.

"What's your plan now?" Randy asked after appropriate time when they both finished their calls.

"The police station."

"I'll drive you," Randy suggested.

"Let's go then."

At the police station, the officers were already waiting for him. First they asked him some personal questions like his name, address, occupation and so on and also the same questions about his wife. Afterwards, they asked him if he wanted to see her. When he responded yes, they drove him to the autopsy room in the biggest hospital in the city.

It took him a while to find the courage to look at his love who is no longer really there. But when he saw her it hit him all the way. It was bad when he heard about it but now that he saw her, it was much worse. Before, there was a part of him that didn't believe it actually happened. Now he was sure. It was all over. No more kissing, no more her gazing into her beautiful eyes, no more talking. And what is even worse, from now on, he has to raise his son alone, Tommy won't see his mother anymore. And all this for some stupid reason he doesn't even know.

He was staring into her closed eyes, at her paralysed body. He took her hand and it felt so weird. He wasn't able to feel anything he felt before. It wasn't that he didn't love her anymore. There was just nothing left to love. All this caused only pain. How he wished her to press his hand, to open her eyes. To wake up. Tell him it's not real. It's a bad dream or a lie she had to undergo to keep her family safe. Any kind of bullshit. Unfortunately, this was reality. Cruel fucked up reality.

After about thirty minutes they all went back to the police station to start the investigation. The police officers prepared a couple of questions they now were about to ask John. He still didn't feel ready to cooperate with the police but he knew it was important and needed to focus. The sooner they get this started, the sooner they'll find the murderers.

"Before you ask me anything," John started, "I would like to know what exactly happened."

"Well, she was found in the hotel room by certain Charles Thomson who's supposed to be her colleague."

"Yeah, I've heard of him. They worked together," John confirmed the information.

"First he called her because she was late for the meeting but she didn't return his calls so as he knew where she resided during the visit of this city, he went to the hotel to check her up. He knocked on the door but she didn't open up. Then he asked the hotel staff to help him get inside because he worried about her. They found her lying on the bed. She seemed to be just sleeping but there was no heartbeat. They called the ambulance anyway which came few minutes later which stated she was dead," the younger policeman explained to him while the older one brought him a glass of water.

"I don't know how to ask this the right way but what killed her? What caused her death?" John overcame his aversion of talking about it to find out what happened.

"As you could have seen, the autopsy had not been done yet so we are not a hundred percent sure but it seems like she's been poisoned."

"How?" John couldn't believe what they were telling him.

"It's really difficult to say. From what we know, somebody had got into her room and insert an injection with the poison into her vein on the left arm. We don't know what kind of a poison it was. We actually only assume this. Well, this or she was doing drugs which," before continuing John stopped him right there.

"She did not do drugs. She would never do something like that."

The officer let him finish before responding. "We are aware of that. I only told you the other possibility. Which would by the way mean we have no idea of what killed her. Anyway, there is a problem. We know that she died immediately. The question is how they got her. There were no signs of a fight. She was not scratched or hurt. There was no mess in the room. Nobody saw anyone coming in or leaving."

"What about fingerprints? There had to be some."

"I'm really sorry to tell you this but no. There were no traces. And that also means we have no suspects. We have literally no clue who could have murdered her. These people were no amateurs. They've done this before. They knew exactly what to do. That is why we need you to tell us everything you know."

John was furious. He couldn't believe their words. "How is that possible? What are you here for? You are supposed to find them! You are absolutely useless!" he shouted at them.

Everybody in the police station heard him. And they were trying to calm him down although they understood him. They felt ashamed of themselves.

"We need your help. Please tell us everything you know," they begged him quietly.

"I can't. I don't have time for you to ask me every stupid thing. I have to go home. I have a son who doesn't even know what happened yet. And also, I want this case to be investigated in my hometown. I'm too busy to travel here and back home every fucking time. You know what, I don't see any point in telling you every detail and then repeating it to the others. Since there's nothing you know, it won't take the officers in my town long to know as little as you do," he said to them harshly.

"But Mr.," they tried to explain him something but he wouldn't let them.

"No. I don't want to hear anything," he stopped them right there. "I believe there's whole lot of other cases you could deal with and I've got enough money to pay specialists who would find my wife's killers immediately. So bye."

They didn't even try to stop him from leaving. They had got no intention in working for somebody this disgraceful. He had his reasons but they were trying to do their best. It was not their fault that the criminals were this flawless.

"Randy?" John called Randy right after he got out of the police station. "Are you still in town?" "I've changed my mind, I need a drink," he admitted. "It didn't go well but I'll tell you later," he commented on the hearing. "Ok, I'll wait you here then, bye."

Soon enough Randy was there to pick him up. Then they headed to the bar.

"So do you know what happened?" Randy asked out of curiosity.

"Not really. Those stupid detectives know nothing."

"Hey, I'm sure they are doing their jobs."

"It's like you're telling me winning is not important. Do you need me to tell _you_ where doing your job without achieving anything will get you?"

"Ok, I get it," Randy stopped him. "But what do you think? Why did it happen? And why was she here anyway? Was she here with you?" he posed him one question after other.

"Not exactly. She had a job here, she wasn't here because of me," John explained him.

"Do you think it happened because of her job?"

John thought about it for a while. "I cannot believe that but it's very plausible. Anyway, I don't feel like talking about it here," John stopped him before he got too emotional. "I need to have some alcohol in me to open up this box," he said metaphorically.

"Would you like something to drink?" a young waitress asked them when they finally found a semi-private spot in a small pretty bar.

"Two shots of whisky, please," John responded but Randy changed it before the waitress could write it down.

"A whole bottle would be better," Randy ordered and smiled at the waitress.

"Whoa, that's a lot. A couple of drinks would be enough," John whispered to Randy as soon as the waitress left their table.

"Yeah, that wouldn't do. Come on, John, do you seriously think you would open up to me after that?"

John just shrugged his shoulders. "Probably not. But anyway, don't call me John here, I don't want anybody to recognise me."

"Do you really care about somebody recognising you? Should I remind you your wife died a couple of hours ago?" Randy asked irritably.

"Stop it! I know what happened. And I know you are no psychologist but even you could see that I'm trying to forget about it and focus on unimportant stuff because I cannot handle it."

"I'm sorry," he apologized immediately. He would continue but the waitress came back with their drinks. Or... a bottle of Whisky and two glasses. "I promise I'm not going to be a jerk tonight. I'll listen to you and I'll do my best to make you feel better. I know this is a hard time for you. And it's difficult to admit but it's going to be even worse," continued.

John breathed in loudly. "I know."

"Now let's try to find an answer to the question why did somebody killed her and also, who did such a thing."

"Well, I only know that she came here because of some conference or a meeting?" he asked himself. "I don't really know."

"Come on, John. You have to remember. What did she say? And when was the last you saw her or talked to her?"

"I...I..." before saying anything, he broke down.

"Drink this," Randy handed him a glass of Whisky. "Don't look at it, just drink it up." He did as Randy commended.

"Last time I saw her... it was three days ago, at home. Then I flew here."

"Alone? I mean, without her?"

"Yes, she came here only yesterday. Actually, I was supposed to meet her at the hotel but I didn't work it out, I had to train. And there was that press conference, you know. But she called me yesterday and we set on going home together."

"And will you finally tell me why she came here?" Randy insisted because he had a feeling that the conversation wasn't going anywhere.

"Let me think."

"You should really have listened to her more," he interrupted him but after seeing John's look, he shut up.

But after a while John agreed. "I should have," he said, "but it doesn't matter anymore." One could see that something was wrong with him. No my-wife-just-died wrong. It was different. He was hiding something. He probably didn't want to talk about it but on the other hand, he needed to get it out. It was likely that he just waited for Randy to ask about it. It took him a while but he noticed it.

"John?"

"Hmm?" He was too out of his mind to pay attention.

"Tell me," Randy begged him.

"Tell you what?" John acted like there was nothing to be told. Or he just didn't listen to him.

"I know you long enough to know when you're not yourself. Something troubles you."

John drank up one shot and Randy immediately poured him another one.

"About a week ago we had a fight," John started slowly but he was interrupted because two maybe twenty year-old girls came up to them.

"Are you...?" they asked.

"Yes," John responded before they could have even finished their question.

"May we," first one started, "take a picture with you?" the second one finished.

"Hmm," John thought about it.

"You know what, girls?" Randy mixed up into the discussion. "We can give you an autograph but no pictures. We really don't want anybody to see us drunk, you know."

"Oh, okay," they responded. "We just wanted to say how amazing you both are," one of them said.

"Yeah, we don't care whether wrestling is fake or not but we just love watching you. You're the best," the other continued.

"Thanks, you're cute," Randy told them. John didn't feel like talking. It was difficult enough to speak with Randy, if he had to speak with those girls he wouldn't probably handle it.

Although they left, Randy knew they were sitting at their table watching them. He was looking at them too. He was sure they were into them. They would probably even have a fling with them. Yeah, Randy was sure that was what they wanted. Those girls were adults, anyway. Maybe if he was single he would sleep with them. Or, you know, just one of them.

"I didn't forget about you, John," Randy said when he saw John noticed how he was looking at the girls. He certainly was smiling at them. And they were smiling back and giggling. "So tell me what was this fight about?" he continued.

"Are you even paying attention?" John accused him.

"Of course I am." Randy swore to himself not to look at the girls again... Or at least not when John can see it. God, they were hot. Randy thought he couldn't have drunk that much so that they would seem prettier than they actually were.

"Well, since I'm a champion and I make a lot of money..."

"Multiplied by ten," Randy added humorously.

"Anyway," John just ignored his comment, "Tommy is already three and I thought that maybe we could have another baby."

"Wait, are you telling me she was pregnant?" Randy asked shocked.

"No! No. The fight started with me telling her to try to have a child. I'm getting old, man, I thought it was the right time for it," he kept explaining.

"Oh, I understand. You wanted it but she was against it. That's how it ends when you marry a younger girl. She had a whole life ahead of her. Of course, she didn't want to have a baby."

"Randy! Stop! I loved her... I still do. Maybe you're right but who cares? It's not important. Yes, she wasn't very keen on this idea. She said she needed to focus on her career now."

"What did you say?" Randy was curious.

"The worst thing. I was a big jerk and said her job was not important. She's a fucking political scientist who cannot achieve anything in her life. I told her that the biggest goal she can ever achieve is to become a university teacher. I also called her job useless," he said. You could hear how he hated himself for saying it.

"That's a really stupid thing to say," Randy agreed.

"I know," John agreed. "I didn't even mean it. It just came out because I was so angry that she totally rejected the idea of having a baby with me."

"I see. And I really hope you made up before... you know," he just said not wanting to mention her death.

John smiled. His eyes filled up with joy which was not real. It only belonged to the certain époque in his life which was now over. "Few days later, when I was packing my stuff for this show. She came to me, tied her arms around me and rested on my back. _I love you, John_, she said," John spoke. It was clear it was not Randy whom John addressed those words. He was living in the past in this moment. Not caring about Randy sitting opposite to him. Not caring about plenty of other visitors of this bar. In the moment which John was in, none of the true reality mattered. "_I love you too, sweetheart_, I said," John continued. "_And I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry_," John repeated over and over again. Tears were pouring down his face and he suddenly got into a transit. He found himself lost. Lost in the past. Not ready for the present.

"John!" Randy screamed and shook with him. He felt John was gone. Or at least far away from this place. "John! Do you hear me?"

Out of a sudden he started to realise what's going on around him again. "I can't," John said.

"It's okay. You don't have to." Randy wasn't sure what was John talking about but he thought it's probably that he can't talk about it anymore. To feel better he handled John the bottle and poured alcohol into him.

"That should make you numb," Randy explained.

That was the last thing he remembered. When John woke up in the morning his head was going to explode. He knew he drank too much but that was okay. He had the right to do it. It helped in some way. Randy was right. It made him numb. No more tears, no more depression, no more hurting memories.

Still lying on his bed in the hotel room, he looked to the left where the window was. The sun had already risen but morning was still young. He yawned and closed his eyes again. He wanted to wake up but something was putting him back into sleep.

When somebody knocked on the door, he said "Come in," in a hoarse voice not giving a fuck whether the door was open or locked.

When the knocking became more intense and John also heard Randy calling his name, he found just enough strength to get up and come to get the door. But he was too asleep and hangover to care about his look.

"Shit," Randy exclaimed as soon as John opened the door. He immediately got inside and closed the door again.

"What?" John asked.

Randy just raised his eyebrows to point out it was clear. Evidently, it was not clear to John. But Randy didn't want to tell him directly. He wanted him to figure it out.

And he did. As soon as he realised he was naked.

"No!" John cried. "That's not possible!" he shouted while looking for a sheet to cover with. "Why? Why? Why?" he asked knowing he wouldn't get any answer. "You too?" he asked Randy when he realised there's no point in denying.

Randy nodded.

"How could you? How could I? Fuck!" John dressed up and sat down on the armchair where he put his head in his hands and swore whilst hating himself.

"That's not going to take it away," Randy reminded him. "Trust me, I've tried it."

"What am I going to do now?" John wondered.

"You? Maybe you don't realise this but your wife is dead! Mine is alive. That means I've cheated on her. You just... succumbed to temptation."

"No!" John denied his explanation. "That's what you did! You were looking at them all night. I was not even interested in them. You got me into this!"

"Don't blame me!"

"I didn't want to sleep with her. All I wanted was to have a nice chat with you," John explained his intention to Randy.

"Hmm, a nice chat," Randy repeated ironically. "You broke down. I couldn't listen to you crying anymore. So I called them to sit with us. Don't say you got tricked into this because you know you are physically strong enough to resist," Randy continued. "Look, I'm sorry but it's really not my fault."

"I know," John finally agreed. "I just cannot believe I slept with some chick the same day my wife was killed."

For a moment everybody was quiet.

"If it that makes you feel any better, it was maybe two o'clock so technically it happened the following day."

"Thanks. Really," John said sarcastically and went back to staring at the floor.

"John?" Randy tried to get his attention. "Promise me you will never tell this my wife. I love her. And this would break her heart," he said seriously.

"Have you never done this before?" John asked him suspiciously.

"Of course not. You know that," he swore.

"I promise," John said what made it a weight off Randy's mind. "What are we going to do now?" he asked as he was now completely woken up.

"I guess we will just go home. That is the only thing left to do."

John agreed and looked around for his suitcase to pack his stuff.

"Let's meet at the reception," Randy said and headed to the door.

"Actually," John stopped him, "I would rather go alone if you don't mind."

"Sure. Well, then I guess, we'll meet..." he didn't finish because he didn't really know when was going to be the next time the two of them will meet.

"I don't know when I'm going to come back to wrestling," John helped him out, "I need to find the murderers first."

"Of course. Give me a call when there's something new, please," he beseeched him. "And good luck."

Then he left. John stayed alone but to avoid any torturing thoughts, he made himself a promise not to think about what happened tonight or before that. He just needed to pack up and not to think at all.

Sitting in the airplane and waiting for the arrival, he had a lot of free time. First he didn't want to keep his mind busy but then he realised he couldn't just shut his mind up forever. Moreover, it was necessary to start thinking about it. And when he did so, he was surprised it didn't hurt as much as he thought. Actually, it didn't hurt at all. He agreed that maybe the last night helped. When he saw his sweetheart lying down, not moving, he realised she was dead. He knew it, and still, he didn't want it to be true. He pretended it didn't happen. But after that one-night stand, his mind cleared up. It let go of the denial. It certainly wasn't a fair thing to do, although Randy was right, technically it's not cheating when you sleep with someone while your wife is no longer your wife. John is single now. Or, widower is the word.

He put on the headphones and listened to some music which he didn't pay attention to. He wanted to spend these few hours thinking about what really happened. He didn't trust the police enough to believe they would find the murderer. Or murderers. Who knows how many people are behind this crime? Although he didn't always listen to her, he still knows her more than anyone. He's the one who spends with her every day and every night. Or as much as he can. He is the one she married more than six years ago. She loved him enough to move to the USA for him. She left her family, her friends for him. She really had to trust him. And he doesn't want to let her down by letting the criminal escape.

He started by remembering the time before he got here, when they made up after the fight. He was sure if he thought about it, he'd remember why she came here and why she died.

Where did he stop talking in the bar?

She tied her arms around him. She came to talk. To make up. He didn't want to leave while still in quarrel either. He knew apologizing would be the best thing to do. And so he apologized.

"_I didn't really mean it. I'm proud of what you do," _he continued back then. _"I just thought it'd be the best time to have another child. I mean, there's nothing else I want to achieve in my job, I want to focus on family. Maybe it's because I'm getting old," _he laughed.

"_You're not old," _she opposed.

"_Right. I just married a younger girl. I've heard that before." _Then he got serious again. "_I'm not even sure how many kids you want to have. If you want more or if one child is enough for you."_

"_John..."_

"_No. You don't need to say anything. I get it. It's not a big deal. You know I won't get sentimental about it, I'm not like that. If you don't want to have a baby now or, never, it's okay. I'm not going to be mad. And I also don't want to hurt you by some stupid things I say. I'm sorry, again."_

She was looking at him, with love, with forgiveness, with apology.

"_What?"_ he asked her.

"_I love you, John. And I'd love to have more children with you. But... it's not the right time now. I've got a lot of work to do. I know that you don't consider my job much interesting, I knew it, I shouldn't have got so offended. I'm sorry, too."_ John wanted to say he appreciates her job and what she was saying is not true but she didn't let him interrupt her. _"I'm working on something right now," _she kept explaining. _"I don't want to bore you with explaining what it is but I'm done researching and now I just need to meet some people and explain it to them. That's also why I'm leaving for New York in two days. And I know you're going there two..."_

"_Come with me," _he interrupted her.

"_I knew you would say that but although I really want to, I don't want to." _ He looked at her confused by her words. _"I'll have to do more travelling to American universities and also I think I'll have to go to Europe so these couple of months I want to spend all my free time with Tommy. You know he needs me." _John sadly but approvingly sighed and then nodded.

"_How long are you going to stay in NY?" _he asked her.

"_Well, I think I could leave the same day as you do," _she said cheering him up.

"_Maybe you could spend the last night with me," _he proposed.

"_You mean after your match? Sure, if you wouldn't be beaten up enough, I can stop by."_

"_But what about Tommy? He's not going with you, is he?" _John was concerned.

"_No, of course he's not. I've already called your mom and she agreed he could stay a couple of days at her place."_

"_Wait. Are you telling me my mother knew you were going away and I didn't?" John wondered a little angrily. _

"_I didn't want you to hate my job even more. I wanted to tell you before but then the fight came and, you know. Oh, that reminds me," _she started. Then she came closer to him and kissed him on the lips. She looked him in the eyes and whispered into his ears. _"I assume I could be finished with travelling by Christmas. What do you say if we start trying then?" _she offered him.

"_So you want to have a baby?" _he asked happily.

"_But I have one condition."_

"_I'll do anything I can."_

"_I want us to move to Europe when the baby is born. For a year or so."_

He was surprised and a little worried if it's even possible for him to take a one year break. Of course, there are some shows in Europe throughout the year, but... What the hell. _"I'm in. I'll go wherever you want. It'll be fun." _

It made John smile. He imagined what it would be like if he lived in Europe. Maybe in London or Paris or Berlin or Rome. It would be so different. He would probably need to learn a new language. It was convenient that his wife spoke English, French, Italian, Spanish and German. She was pretty clever. But it wasn't enough to avoid being murdered. Or, maybe that was why it happened. She found out something what should have been hidden.

That brought back the real reason behind going through this dialogue. And what did he find? Absolutely nothing. She didn't tell him anything. Not to bore him, she said. If she bored him, he would now know and he could get the justice. This way, he's stuck at the beginning. But he needs to remember. He tried to search more. Go further. What was she working on? His colleague has to know. He was about to meet her, he has to know why. Or, maybe she had already explained her thesis to somebody. It's impossible nobody knows the reason.

He wanted to call that guy. Learn his number and then call him. But soon he realised he's on the airplane so it's not possible. He needs to wait until he gets out of here.

Meanwhile he thought it would be a good idea to remember also the day before yesterday's conversation with his wife when she arrived and called him. John made himself comfortable by leaning backwards, closing his eyes and listening to music.

He was in the gym with some other guys getting ready for the big event which was held the following day. He knew she was going to call him because he told her to do so. A half an hour ago he spoke on the phone with his mom and Tommy who already missed his mother. John was never as popular with Tommy. It was okay because he knew it would change when he gets older and will be able to realise what his father does. John was sure that being recognised on TV by Tommy would gain him favour. But none of this mattered anymore. John won't try to win his son. Now something else is important. John will do as much as he can to help his son remember his mother. He won't let him forget. And although it will be difficult because Tommy is only three and people don't have many memories from this age but it's the only task for John to do.

He'll probably stop wrestling for a while. Not only for the investigation and getting things around the funeral done, he also wants to spend all his free time with his son to be there for him. Maybe he'll move in with his mom. It would be easier for John because he's not used to take everyday care of his son. He could survive with him one week but the rest of life is questionable.

But he needs to get back to remembering. When did she call? What did she tell him? He knew he picked up the phone as soon as it started ringing. He was sitting next to it because he had a break, other guys were wrestling now.

"_Hi honey, how was the flight?" _he asked her before she could say anything.

"_I don't really want to talk about it. It was long and tiring. But how are you? Did you manage to get a time off tonight?"_

"_No. We have a press conference tonight so I'm literally our of free time. I'm sorry I cannot meet you. Anyway, what's your plan for today?"_

"_I'm going to the university to meet up with some professors who are interested in the same field as me. I'm free tonight but since my husband is occupied, I have to find some other divertissement. Maybe I'll visit some of local clubs," _she said to make him interested and jealous at the same time.

"_Sweetie, don't do this to me. Do you want me to think about you being flirted with by some assholes during the conference?"_

"_I've been to those conferences before. You will be glad you can think about something like that."_

"_Yeah, they're boring. But I'll be worried about you," _he admitted.

"_John, tell me, do you really think they will still bother me when I tell them who my husband is?" _she caressed his ego.

"_Okay. But promise me to keep safe."_

"_Honey. I'm going to be fine. I probably won't even go there," _she assured him._ "Anyway," _shecontinued_, "tomorrow I'm on a meeting with Charles, you know him, right?" _she asked him.

"_Probably," _he answered although he had no idea.

"_Then I'll try to make it to your big show and we'll go to your hotel. In the morning we'll go home. What do you say?" _

"_It'll be perfect. I can't wait to see you."_

"_Okay. Bye, John. I love you."_

"_I love you too."_

That was the last time he heard from her. It seemed so long ago. Now, when he played it in his mind over and over again, it was so wrong. She was supposed to keep safe. He thought the biggest threat was coming from her visit to the club. How wrong he was.

He was supposed to know something was wrong when she didn't show up at the event. She said she would try to make it there but still, he was supposed to be more worried when she didn't. Although, what difference would it make? By the time he was getting ready, she was already dead.

He couldn't wait to see her. Now he would trade seeing her for her life. He would give anything and everything. On one hand, he knew he was handling it. He usually doesn't get emotional, and he did only the day she died. There were no tears after that. But on the other hand, he feels that he still didn't face the true reality. It'll all really come to him when he sees Tommy and will be obliged to tell him the truth.


End file.
